It began a few days ago, quiet, small whimpering sounds, scarcely audible. Then, we heard them, as they became louder and more frequent. Tresor was speaking to us. He was in pain. We took him to our trusted veterinarian, and she did in fact confirm he had some areas of muscular pain and prescribed some appropriate drugs. However, they did not seem to work. He passed a night whimpering more frequently and loudly. This was not working out, so we took him back to the vet’s for further examination. He was examined more thoroughly, blood was drawn, and he was sent home with more meds, including Tramadol. He should feel better soon.
According to my experience, these kinds of events occur often with borzoi. Perhaps it is not the breed as much as the line, or perhaps it is both. I find myself using the word “fragile” to describe them, and hear that word used more and more by my other friends, breeders and owners alike. It has terrible implications, from owning dogs that will either die young or often will be ill. I currently know young male borzoi with heart valve disease and cancer. Two recently died after impregnating bitches who whelped litters after they died. To me, that speaks volumes.
I am not writing this to show my kennel’s dirty laundry or that of my breeder’s or friends. Only to reveal the high price we pay for shepherding these majestic dogs through their lives. For I do not believe we ever really own them. We care for them while they grace our lives with their presence. Sometimes that presence is long but other times, it is brief. It became easier for me once I saw it that way, rather than owning them then losing them. That model was too, too terrible.
Tresor should feel better today for these are effective medications, for sure. Yet, I worry, and at nearly seven years, I know he is no longer a “young” adult dog anymore but has crossed the threshold to being a “senior” dog, or classified in the dog show world as a “veteran”. Either way, his great nobility granted him by his breeder’s line is in no way affected. He has great presence, grace and nobility, making an impression wherever he goes. People are drawn to him, and he is always a sweet, gentle dog.
My life will be stripped bare of so much that is happiness when it is his time to depart. A great chill has already descended over Blyss as our Boy’s health is threatened, and he struggles to be well. I will lose a friend, a serious occurrence for me, one who has so few. How little I care so long as I have Them, and he is half of Them, my Jelly and my Tre! No one truly understands this. Even LT, upon reading the poem I recently wrote for Tre became cross with me. So yes, he is so important that friends walk away and I feel it is okay. I have my pair of borzoi at Blyss Kennels again.
